


A Room for One More Troubling Dream

by Meiana



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Consensual Sex, F/M, Love Confessions, Pining, Romantic Tension, Sexual Tension, Smut, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23264890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meiana/pseuds/Meiana
Summary: Falling asleep with Belphie was always easy. Sometimes, it was too easy.What happens when you have lucid dreams?
Relationships: Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Belphegor/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 393
Collections: obeyme





	1. Let's Be Alone Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the chat 「Nice」, where Belphie receives a pillow and wants to try it out with MC.

You come home to your room in the House of Lamentation after classes. You’re feeling lucky because Mammon rushed off to a modeling job, and you’re enjoying a little bit of peace and quiet. It’s not that you dislike his company, but your introverted self appreciates the calm that comes from being alone.

Your D.D.D. pings with a message alert.

-  
Belphegor: MC, where are you?  
MC: I’m in my room. Why?  
Belphegor: Great.  
Belphegor: You should come to my room.  
Belphegor: There’s this fluffy thing I want you to try out. Together, with me.  
-

You pocket your D.D.D., wondering what sleep implement Belphie plans to show you. You debate whether to go or not, but you know how bratty he would be if you decide not to see whatever it is he wants to show you. _So much for my alone time_ , you muse. But then, you always find yourself going along the whims of the youngest demon brother. You tell yourself it was nothing more than wanting to befriend him. You understand that putting this under closer observation will jar the harmony that you’ve all established in the House of Lamentation.

You change out of your RAD uniform into something more comfortable - a skirt, it turns out - since you haven’t been doing your laundry for more than a week now, and all your leggings and shorts are all in the laundry bin. You let out a sigh while mentally noting to do your laundry after dinner tonight. You braid your hair in a long plait, then leave for the twins’ room.

You knock on their door, calling out. “Belphie?” There’s a pause, but you’re used to this. You know how the Avatar of Sloth moves at his own pace. The door opens faster than your usual count, and you smile in surprise. “Hello, Bel--”

You are pulled inside the room by your arm, and the door shuts behind you. Belphie continues to pull you towards his bed, where there’s a new addition to his pillow collection: a big white velvet pillow adorned with colorful pompoms around the edges. “Beel gave it to me. I want to try it out with you,” he says. He looks around at you, then asks, “You’re not on cooking duty tonight, right? We have a lot of time before dinner for a nap.”

He sits on the bed, then pulls you down. This action catches you unaware, and you fall on his lap, your knee braced beside his hip, your other leg between his. You feel blood rushing to your cheeks, and you scramble upright, letting out a startled peep. Belphie just looks at you with his usual expression, a little bored, a little bratty. You shake your head, willing errant thoughts away.

“Alright, let’s try it out,” you nod once you’ve gotten yourself under control. You’ve been napping with him a lot anyway - in the planetarium, the music room, their room, your room. This is nothing different, you tell yourself.

“Come on then,” he says. He nods, then pulls you towards him again. This time, you’re prepared, so you sit beside him. He crawls to position himself on the bed, his head taking up half the pillow. He gestures at you, already yawning, and pats the space beside him.

You lie down facing him, the pillow soft and comfortable and your face is too close to Belphie’s andー

You stop your panicked thoughtsー you close your eyes and take a deep breath. “This pillow is comfy, huh,” you say shakily. Belphie doesn’t respond, and you open your eyes to see that he’s asleep. His even breaths caress your face, and you slap yourself internally ー all these feelings, they are only getting in the way of your friendship with him. You turn, and Belphie spoons you, his arm draping over your waist, pulling you closer. You close your eyes once more, letting your thoughts go as you will yourself asleep.

It might have been because you’re beside the Avatar of Sloth, but you sink into sleep soon enough. At first, you’re floating in that weird state between sleep and wakefulness, your conscious mind playing with your subconscious. You remember events from today in flashes too quick for you to catch. You push the dream towards your memories of home, of your room, rain beating your window, flashes of lightning, you wrapped in your favorite blanket watching drops of water lash against the glass. Your tea is getting cold, but you don’t notice; instead, you snuggle deeper into the warmth you feel on your back.

You let out a sigh of contentment, rubbing your cheek against your shoulder and snuggling close to the presence behind you. A finger tips your chin up. In this dream-like state, you don’t question the soft kiss that falls on your lips. You don’t question the hand that slides down your shoulder, to your arm, to your thigh. You lean into the kiss, deepening the contact, a soft sigh full of longing escaping you. The hand on your thigh brushes upward and inward, and you feel heat pool in your gut. Another hand pulls the blanket off your shoulders, and you turn more fully into the kiss. You wrap your arms around the neck of your partner, not breaking your connection. The hand that freed you from the blanket brushes excruciatingly slow up your shirt, feather light. You shiver with need. You feel fingers brushing the undersides of your breast. You startle a little from the feel fingers brushing near your wet, sensitive core.

Then it’s no longer the slow burn of arousal; rather, lust flashes like lightning, leaving sparks in its wake. You’re on your bed, a presence looming above you. You groan when the hand on your thigh suddenly cups your hot center, the other hand squeezing your breast. A quick flick on both your hardening nipple and your aching clit pulls apart your seams, and you press your thighs closed. The hand pulls your thigh open. Your head falls back, a moan escaping you once again. You feel a finger exploring your folds, and you whine when it leaves - only to gasp in pleasure when it enters you. A heavy excitement makes you clench your thighs again, but a warm body settles between them. A hot bulge presses against your womanhood. You slide yourself up and down, up and down, on the hard arousal, moaning and whining, for you ache to feel this dick inside you, stretching you, filling you.

At first, it was your restlessness that woke Belphegor. Strange that you were moving a lot because usually when you napped with him, you were always out like a light. Then you moaned softly, like you were in pain. You started rubbing your hips on him, and that made him take notice of your gasping sighs. You were letting out small whines while clutching his arm around your waist.

Tentatively, he slides his arm up from your waist. At that moment, you curve your body forward. His thumb accidentally brushes your hardened nipple, and you let out a long moan. Desire stabs him in the gut.

“MC?” he asks, shaking your shoulder slightly.

You turn in his arms, rubbing your face in his shirt. Needing to feel skin under your lips, your desire fueled by your longing, you unwittingly continue your dream into wakefulness. Your eyes open, half-lidded, and you kiss your way up to his neck. You lick and suck the skin, the hitch in his breathing only serving to inflame you more.

Caught in this state of half-wakefulness, Belphegor’s voice does nothing to halt your trail of kisses. Instead, the low timbre of it excites you more. “MC?” his low voice cautious but petulant. He brushes your hair off your face so he could see your expression. What he sees adds another jolt of lust: your half-lidded eyes are bright, your cheeks are flushed, and your lips are greedily sucking on the skin of his neck.

He shakes you again, and this time, awareness flares in your eyes. “Took you long enough,” Belphie quips, but you shake your head, the red mark on his neck a stark contrast with his pale skin. You freeze for a second before a flurry of movement results with you on the floor, breath taken out from the sudden impact. You stand up with difficulty, trying to get to the door. But you stumble, falling to your knees, a blanket tangled around your ankles. Belphie sits up, worry hidden behind a frown, a hand extended towards you.

You flinch a little, cheeks heating up. “I’m so sorry, I have to go!” you squeak out. You stand up, kicking the blankets away. You are stopped by a pair of arms encircling you from behind. Your breath rushes out in stutters, and you look down at where Belphie is holding you. “Be-- Belphie?” you try again.

He doesn’t say anything; instead he pulls you to him, just close enough for you to feel a magnetic attraction tugging at you. The infinitesimal space between you is too far; with a small cry, you cross it. You are both gratified and frustrated with the situation.

Belphie hugs you to him, his chin on your shoulder, enfolding you. Once again, your breath stutters out of you. “Belphie? Uh, I need to help with kitchen duty,” you say. It is a lie, and you both know it. He shakes his head slowly, his lips brushing the skin on your neck. He doesn’t say anything, just bucks his hips forward. You whimper when you feel the hardness nestling between your ass. “That must have been one torrid dream,” he says, hot breath following the brush of his lips.

Wanting more, you turn your head to him, locking a moan behind your own closed lips. He doesn’t do anything else, and you start to feel mortified.

“You started it,” Belphie murmurs, “so you continue it.” His lips are skimming your cheek. You can feel the smirk on him.

“What next?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might continue this, since I still have the confession scene to do. I realize I can just publish it as one chapter, but I needed to get this out of my system first.
> 
> Edit: English is my second language, so forgive me for mistakes. Also, this work hasn't been edited except for minor punctuation errors. Also this edit.


	2. She’s Outside the Door, Invite Her In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belphie's POV of the previous chapter.

Belphie tosses his D.D.D. beside him on the bed after texting MC. Raising his arms, he falls back on his mountain of pillows and blankets, staring blankly at the ceiling. To his side is the pillow from Beel. He runs his hands over it, feeling the texture. His other hand taps impatiently on the headboard, but other than this, there is no other sign of his moodiness. He contemplates sending another message, but decides against it. He knows she’ll keep her word.

His thoughts wander to their hangouts, which would more rightly be called _sleep sessions_. The first time was unplanned - it was after midterms, and she was in the common room, stretched out on the sofa. A soft snore announced her presence. He walked over, and saw her napping, dark circles under her eyes. He put his pillow on the other sofa and slept. After that, whenever the human was tired - usually after exams or student council work - he would find her asleep somewhere. More and more he would lie closer and closer to her; more and more he would take her wrist and bring her somewhere to sleep. Sometimes she would protest, stating homework or cooking duty; sometimes she would be yawning before they even got to a good napping spot.

He’s rewarded for his patience when a knock sounds on the door. In a flash, he opens it, revealing the human. Her face was lit up with a surprised smile. _Heh,_ he thinks, _she doesn’t know how much I want to see her._ He takes her wrist and pulls her into the room, marching for the bed. He hears her squeaks of inquiry, but ignores them for now. All will be revealed soon anyway.

On his bed is his new pillow, soft and white and fluffy. He makes a small gesture with his chin, then realizes that she cannot see it, so he speaks up. “Beel gave it to me,” he says. “I want to try it out with you.” He considers something. “You’re not on cooking duty tonight, right? We have a lot of time before dinner for a nap.” 

He sits down on the bed and pulls her closer. She lets out another squeak, falling onto Belphie’s lap. Her cheeks flush a becoming pink while she jumps up from his lap like a startled rabbit. He tries not to smirk. _She’s so easy to toy with_. He waits.

Her expression becomes determined. “Alright, let’s try it out,” she breaks the short silence, nodding once. 

“Come on,” he says. He nods, then pulls her towards him again. She seems to have anticipated this, for she sits beside him. _No fun._ He crawls to one side of the bed, fluffing up the pillow some more before laying his head on it. He yawns, and beckons her, one eye closed. He pats the empty space beside him, shutting both eyes. Her hesitation is a smudge in the air, yet it disappears and he feels her weight shifting on the bed. Her breaths come quick and quiet. 

Her soft voice traverses the short distance between them. “Th- this pillow is comfy, huh,” she says, a hitch betraying her nervousness. He doesn’t speak, feigning sleep. After another tense moment, she turns. He snuggles up behind her, pulling her closer to him. Now he’s ready to sleep, and so he gives himself over to it.

In the middle of a particularly pleasant dream of sunshine and open spaces, Belphie hears a few whimpers. Worried, he turns around and around, searching for the source. The meadow spins with him. Then he feels something bumping him, repeatedly. As a demon who had power over the world of sleep, he pulls himself out. 

She is restless, hips moving back and forth gingerly, as if someone else were pushing and pulling her. He hears a soft mewl, then another. He tries to see her state of wakefulness, and attempts to pull his arm from around her waist. She was clutching it to her bosom. Once again, he endeavors to retract his arm, sliding it slowly up her waist. Her chest contracts on a sigh, and his thumb accidentally brushes a stiff nipple. A loud moan causes a hitch in his breath, and desire to kindle. _Hmm, she’s having a very_ **interesting** _dream._

“MC?” he asks, shaking her shoulder slightly. 

All of a sudden, she turns in his arms, rubbing her face in his shirt. Like a vampire, she traces a path to his neck with open-mouthed kisses. Belphie regrets not taking off his shirt, but that thought flies away when she suddenly licks and sucks the skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Another hitch in his breath, that seems to impassion her more, and he could not help but speak. “MC?” he asks, pitching his voice low, his reluctance to show his desire bleeding into his voice as annoyance. He brushes her hair out of her eyes, curious and wanting to see her expression. A bolt of lust snakes down his spine - her eyes were half-lidded but oh so very focused on him. Her lips were red and glossy from sucking his skin.

He shakes her once more. Her eyes flash with awareness. Panic flares in her gaze. “Took you long enough,” Belphie quips. She freezes for a moment, eyes wide and breathing stopped. She then rolls to the edge, overshooting her mark and falling to the floor. Belphie sees her pop up like a cartoon, drawing a chuckle from his lips. But her panicked state causes her to stumble on the blanket that had slipped to the floor. She falls on her knees, a small, pained grunt issuing from her. He sits up in worry, crawling to the edge and extending a hand towards her. It surprises him when she flinches away from his touch.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go!” she says, voice higher than normal. She stands up, kicking the blankets away. He moves, faster than humans, to stop her. He embraces her from behind, enclosing her but not pulling her to him. She breathes like she had run farther than the distance from his bed to the middle of the room.

“Beー Belphie?” she asks. A small movement, as if she will step forward. He doesn’t say anything; instead he pulls her just a little bit closer. She lets out a cry and leans back, her body molding to his. Her trust in him feels like he had won his way back to the gates of heaven, and so, with care, he folds her into him, wanting to have more of her.

Her confused voice drops him back to the human world. “Belphie? Uh, I need to help with kitchen duty.” He shakes his head slowly, knowing this for the lie that it was, brushing his lips over the skin on her neck. He doesn’t say anything, just bucks his hips forward. She whimpers.

“That must have been one torrid dream,” he says. _Tell me,_ he wants to say. _Trust me with your dark desires._

She turns her head, as if to kiss him. He waits for her next move.  
  
“You started it,” Belphie murmurs, “so you continue it.” _Let me in to your dreams._  
  
He smirks, still lightly brushing his lips on her neck. “What next?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I said I was going to write the confession scene, but this was itching to get out into the world (as with all my other fics).
> 
> I'm writing the third chapter now, so I hope I can post it soon!


	3. At the End of the Road to Ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where MC has jumped to conclusions. It’s good exercise, alongside running with restless thoughts.

For the past few days, you’ve managed to avoid Belphegor without seeming to avoid him. You don’t know how long your luck will hold, but you’ll take however long it is before you acknowledge _that._

That being you dreaming a very hot dream, then waking up and jumping the Avatar of Sloth. Of course you would avoid him, it’s just common sense. Okay, maybe not _common sense_ , but what else were you supposed to do?!

These thoughts trouble you on your way home from RAD. Your book bag is heavy with course notes and homework for Leviathan and Belphegor. The instructor had roped you into bringing it to them, because the two demons had been skipping school for the past three days… ever since _that_ evening. (Not that it applies to Levi, of course). You decide to drop off Levi’s course materials first before Belphie’s. You nod, steeling yourself. You enter the gates of the House of Lamentation, but stop immediately.

It was a rude joke from fate. That was definitely it. It could not have been anything else. Belphegor was exiting the front door, his signature cow print pillow tucked under his arm. You halt, alarm unknowingly crossing your face. But he doesn’t seem to notice you, as he walks towards the gardens. You watch him until he’s out of sight. Only then do you move, rushing towards the front door as if a pack of demons were behind you.

Forgetting your original plan, you walk in a hurry to your room. Locking the door behind you, you lean against it, letting your book bag drop to the floor at your feet. You slide down, your arms resting on your knees. Your eyes wander around the room aimlessly, but something catches your attention. You hurriedly stand, but your knee catches on the strap of your bag and you fall. You will have another bruise to match the one on your other knee, you think ruefully. You crawl to your bedside, your sore knees protesting. Stretching out your hand, you wonder how it got in here while you caress the velvet of the pillow. 

A crinkle of paper alerts you to a note tucked under the pillow. You pull it out.

* * *

_MC,_

_Tonight, there will be a shower of stars._

_Take the pillow and join me in the garden._

_I’ll be waiting._

_Belphegor_

* * *

You clutch the note, creasing it. When you notice, you smooth it out in dismay. You debate whether to go or not, but this will be your first meteor shower in the Devildom. Apparently, it will be quite spectacular. Everyone in RAD had been talking about it for days.

You change out of your uniform into another skirt. You almost trip again on your forgotten book bag. Taking out the work sheets, you put your bag aside. Sighing, you bow your head to the inevitable. You tap the papers to straighten them, then grab the pillow. You use it as a sort of tray for the papers and head out of your room.

You go to Levi’s room first and drop off the worksheets. It took you some time because Levi was being strict with the password. Eventually you just slide the papers one by one under his door, with a note telling him the dire consequences (mostly from telling on him to Lucifer) if he didn’t put some effort on it. You sit beside his door, and repeat the message on the note on a chat message to him. You get replies on your D.D.D.: three angry demojis and a scared demoji. You laugh loudly, but you do stand up and leave him alone for now.

You clutch the remaining worksheets to your chest. There’s nothing for it now. You take a few steps away from Levi’s door, but you flit back - you forgot the pillow. You stare at it for a bit before picking it up.

You walk outside. You take a deep breath. You walk towards the garden, looking for Belphegor. He’s on one of the deck chairs, predictably lying down with his head on his beloved pillow. A few paces from him, you call out his name. “Belphie?” 

He doesn’t give any indication that he’s heard you. You step closer and peek at his face. _Of course._ He’s asleep. You reach out a hand, one finger poised to poke his cheek. Before you could do so, your wrist is caught in a loose grip. Belphegor opens his eyes. “Is this your idea of fun?” he asks.

You feel the heat spread on your cheeks, so you shake your head to try and dispel it. “I’m not-- It’s not--” you start to explain. A loud sigh, then you try to start again. “I was not making fun of you or anything,” you huff. “I was only trying to wake you up.” You toss the pillow on the other deck chair. You carefully place the worksheets on Belphie’s stomach. “The instructors told me that you have to answer and pass those by next Monday.” 

Belphie pouts, taking the papers and putting them under his chair. “I wouldn’t have minded,” he says. “But you had to go and bring homework into this.” He sits up to poke your cheek. 

“Hey!” you automatically cover your cheek; it’s too late, of course. You rub the offended spot instead. “Well, I guess you can ignore it for now,” you say, looking at the papers on the grass. You sit down, sliding the pillow up to the height of your head so you can comfortably recline. Well, as comfortable as you can, with the object of your unrequited-- You cut off that thought before it can complete. You stifle another sigh, and set your gaze to the skies overhead. “When do we expect the meteor shower?” you ask.

Belphie lies back on his chair once more. “It should be here any minute now,” he says, looking up at the countless stars ever present on the Devildom sky. For once, you are thankful for this quirk of this realm. It’s only afternoon, but you will get to watch a meteor shower! You relax as you think about it, forgetting for a moment your initial predicament. You gaze up, threading your fingers together on your chest. 

It’s a tranquil moment, which is ironic as it was your companion that had given you a lot of tension in the last few days. You have come to realize that it is Belphegor’s effect on you: calmness and nervousness in his presence. Try to deny it all you want, but you have to face the music. You like Belphegor. Now what should you do about it? A sigh escapes your lips. 

“If you didn’t want to listen, you should have said something,” Belphie says. Preoccupied as you were, you didn’t realize he had been talking to you. 

Sitting upright, “I’m sorry, I was thinking about something else,” you say in a rush. “Could you please repeat what you said?”

“That must have been an **interesting** thought,” he smirks. You blush, for it reminds you of _that_ night. He had said something similar, in much the same tone and expression. “I’m really curious now.” He’s still lying down, belying his actual curiosity. But he is looking at you, strands of hair partially hiding his eyes, still smirking.

“I was only thinking how I _was_ feeling relaxed,” you huff, annoyed.

“Heeeh,” he hums, his smirk firmly in place while his gaze shifts to the sky. “Were you feeling distinctly **not** relaxed before this?”

“Yes! I mean, no! I-” you sputter. 

“Yes?” You can still hear the barely suppressed amusement in his voice.

“You! Ugh, you’re the worst. It’s all your fault anyway,” you mutter to yourself.. 

He must have supernatural hearing. “Do I unsettle you that much?” he asks, his face now serious. “I’ve noticed you avoiding me.”

You brace your hands on your knees, turning your face away. Your heart starts to race, filling your chest with anxiety. You can no longer deny that you’re in love with him. You feel the need to tell the truth, so you respond. “Yes... and no.” 

Belphie’s silence, while expectant, does not feel heavy. Eyes still focused at a far off bush, you continue. “When I’m with you, I feel the comfort of my favorite blanket, or a cup of hot chocolate. With marshmallows. But at the same time…” you trail off. “I feel like I have butterflies fluttering in my stomach. A whole bunch of them, trying to get out.”

You hear him shift, and from the corner of your eye, you see him stand up. He reaches out slowly, as if he were giving you time to move away. You feel his fingers brush your cheek, sending a sweet shiver across your skin. You’ve frozen in place, not daring to move away, nor closer to, his touch. You feel tears prickle your eyes. You’re quite sure by now of what you feel for the youngest demon brother, and you’re quite sure it’s not reciprocated. His attitude towards you was always friendly, if a little bit sharp; aside from that stint being his bridge to reintegrate within his brothers’ circle, you’ve both remained on the near side of cordial. At least until he started stealing you for naps. _That’s gotta mean something, right?_

“Hey, look at me.” Belphie turns your head to face him. There’s a dark glow in his purple eyes, lending his expression an intensity you’ve rarely seen. “If you want something, why not say it?”

A glare escapes you, incongruous with your wet eyes. _How can he even ask that of you?_ You look down, rapidly blinking away the tears pooled at the corner of your eyes. It wasn’t his fault that you don’t know how to deal with your feelings, so you shake your head to chase away the frustration you felt. Communication is a two-way street, and since you surmise that he does not have an inkling of your feelings, you resolve to enlighten him.

“MC?” he asks again, a slight hesitancy betraying his uncertainty. 

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. _More like recklessness_ , a mocking voice tells you. You sigh out the doubt, and speak. “Don’t laugh, okay?” You run your hands over your face, wiping away the tears before they could fall. Belphie nods, sitting beside you. Another deep breath, you look straight in front of you, and speak again. “I like you, Belphie. A lot, in fact. I know it’s weird, and stupid, and unwelcome, but I want, no, I need to tell you. I’m sorry for avoiding you… I just didn’t know how to tell you… And I didn’t want to admit to myself at first what I was feeling.”

A beat of silence follows your words. Anxious, you clench your fists on your lap. A warm hand covers one of yours, caressing, coaxing your fingers to spread open. When you do, his fingers lace over yours. You steal a glance at him. He is looking at your connected hands. He then raises his gaze to you, catching you unaware. You feel your cheeks heat, and you turn your head away.

“It’s not unwelcome.” 

Warily, you look at the demon beside you. Did you hear him correctly?

He sees that you do not believe him, so he repeats himself. “It’s not unwelcome.” 

Your eyes widen, finally starting to process what he’s saying. Before you can say anything, he shifts, lying slightly on his side behind you. With an arm around your waist, he pulls you down to lie beside him. “The meteor shower is starting,” he just says, as he maneuvers you to lie on his arm. You huff a little, more than a irked to have your… _discussion_ cut short. You want him to explain what he meant by that, but you’re caught again, matching your pace to his.

But you do turn your face up, watching as streaks of light raced across the perpetual night. A gasp escapes your lips, wonder sparkling in your eyes as you watch the rainbow hued stars make their way across the skies. Overwhelmed with awe, you press your cheek against Belphie’s chest. “It’s beautiful,” you breathe.

You feel him tighten his hold on you for a moment, as if to agree. 

“I like you, MC.”

Still staring up, it takes you a moment to comprehend the significance of his words. Your heart seems like it would beat out of your chest. Before you could scramble upright, he tightens his hold on you again. “I mean it.”

You release the tension in your shoulders. Belphie pulls you even closer, nuzzling his face at the crook of your neck. “So you’re mine now, right?”

You blush, but you don’t pull away. “We’re here to watch the meteor shower, aren’t we?”

“I found something more interesting,” Belphie says, still cuddling you. He starts to rain small kisses on your neck. You giggle at the ticklish sensation. That is, until he licks your neck. Your gasp comes out as a mewl, and you squirm in his embrace. He stops. 

“Belphie?” you inquire softly. 

In response, he sits up. “Hey.” He puts a hand to your shoulder, so you look over. “As much as I want to let my brothers know you’re mine, I want to keep your cute reactions to myself.” 

“Eh? Eh?” You flail a bit when he takes the pillow from behind you. Left with no other choice, you also sit up. He takes your hand, towing you to the other deck chair, where he gathers his cow print pillow. Still confused, you follow him as he walks to the front doors, running a little to keep up with his strides. He leads you, ignoring your questions, until you both stop in front of your door. 

He looks at you, chin slightly raised. “I’d like to kiss you more.”

This day wasn’t good for your cheeks nor your heart. Acquiescing to his demand, you open your door. You lead him inside. Belphie lets go of your hand to lock the door. You stop awkwardly in the middle of your room, looking anywhere but at him, still clutching the white pillow. He stalks towards you, and you take a cautious step backwards. He advances, you retreat - until the back of your knees hit the bed, and you have nowhere left to retreat. He tosses his pillow on the bed.

“Belphie?” Your voice is higher in pitch now, your nervousness and excitement warring. 

“Tell me,” he says, fingers reaching out to lift a lock of your hair to his lips. “What changed that night, to make you avoid me?”

You sit down, and the lock of hair slips out of his grasp. He tips your chin up gently, slowly bringing his face down. You feel your thoughts scatter, but you’ve decided to be honest to yourself. You try to answer.

“Uh… first of all, I’m so sorry, Belphie. I didn’t mean to do… that, to you. I… I had a dream, and it just felt so real, and I didn’t know-- It felt like a dream.” Longing and hope battle with guilt and regret in your eyes. 

Belphegor smirks. _When did his face get this close?_ “And then?”

“I… I didn’t want to admit the truth to myself. That I--” You can hear your heartbeat, and your cheeks feel like they’re scorched. “I wanted it, Belphie. I wanted more. So much more.” You look down at your hands clasped on your lap.

He tips your chin up with his thumb, guiding your gaze to his. You feel yourself drowning in the amethyst orbs. “I’m glad you told me. That means I don’t have to be sorry about this,” he says. A feathery kiss lands on your lips. Your eyes are rounded in surprise, and you see him close the distance again to kiss you. You return his soft, insistent demand, and this time, your eyes flutter closed.

_This was no dream._

Belphie licks the seam of your lips, and you open them. Your tongues intertwine as he seeks something from you, leaving you gasping for breath. You realize that you’re already prone on the bed, with him above you. Sweet shivers run down your spine as he trails kisses on your cheek to the shell of your ear. A small gasp escapes you when he licks it, and you clutch at his shoulders - whether to push him away, or to pull him closer, you cannot say.

“Do you want more?” he asks, voice low and breath hot at your ear. You squirm a little, but you lay small, shy kisses on his neck before nodding.

That was all Belphegor needed. A hand slips under your shirt, all while he trailed hot kisses on your cheek before claiming your lips again. His fingers find the lacy edge of your bra, and covers your breast with his palm. Still kissing you, he grinds his hips on yours. Your moan is swallowed into him when he thumbs your hardened nipple beneath the fabric of your bra. Heat is pooling in your stomach, moving somewhere lower. You forget to breathe when you feel him slide his hand from your chest, to the tops of your thigh, rubbing the edge of your panties.

He moves his head away, and you breathe and whine at the sudden loss of his kisses. His smirk was nowhere in sight for he was panting slightly. He sits up, and tugs at your shirt. “Do you still want this?”

You shake your head, already missing his proximity. You sit up and remove the shirt yourself. Hurriedly, you both divest yourselves of clothing. With nothing more between you, you stoke up the heat with more kisses and caresses. A finger sliding up and down your slit; your hand finding his hard member; hickeys blooming on both of your chests. You’re both racing towards the swan song of bliss, heat and warmth and slickness obscuring you from the mundane. A groan from Belphie at the feel of the tip of his cock touching your wet entrance, a cry of his name from you at the feel of his length inside your walls. You wrap your arms around his neck, whimpering his name, begging for more. He moves his hips, pushing your thighs apart. 

With rolling movements, he changes the angle of his thrusts, until you yelp at the intense feeling of his cock hitting a spot, _that spot._ You feel yourself coming apart, your walls clenching him tightly. “Belph, Belphie! Ah, I’m- I’m close!” you say between pants, one hand clutching the bedclothes, the other arm still wrapped tightly around him. He is moaning at the combination of your heat and your voice, calling out his name. Your cries are more and more disjointed, and both of you have lost the rhythm of the thrusts.

In an effort to muffle your cries, you suck on the skin of Belpegor’s neck. At this, he pounds harder into you, your body sliding up the bed. He shifts his weight to one arm to free the other. He rubs around your clit, smearing the digit with your wetness, before grinding it on the tip. All the intense sensations at the same time pushes you over the edge, screaming his name. Your walls clamp around his length, and he groans. A few more snaps of his hips and he’s spilling his seed inside you.

Out of breath and panting, he stops himself from crashing fully on you. Your gasps flutter the hair above his ear. He’s still inside you, and you stop him from moving out and away. “Can we- Can we stay like this, for- for a moment?”

You feel him nod, his hair tickling your face. After a moment, he moves, taking you with him. Your chest is partially on his, and you put your free arm above his stomach to hug him. With a bit of maneuvering, you’re both covered with a blanket, your heads on proper pillows. He snuggles you closer to him. He yawns, then buries his face in your hair.

“Come see me in my dreams, or I’ll get mad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished it! I'm sorry it took so long; I had a block, both in writing and in life. That said, I do have some other fics in various stages of completion (mostly not completed LOL).
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated! ❤


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